


The Box

by ReadingBoi



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, but ran out of time for natsume week, may finish it later, sad boy hours, warning this just kinda cuts off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25080955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadingBoi/pseuds/ReadingBoi
Summary: How had he forgotten?Pushing open the door, the scent grew and confirmed his suspicions. He pulled out the back-most box and dug out a smaller shoe box. The white cardboard sagged under his fingertips; the smell ever stronger.It was a simple box. From the only pair of shoes he had ever been given new, size 4. They hadn't fit a previous foster family's son, but he treasured them anyway.I wrote this all as quickly as humanly possible for natsume week. Warning, the ending is sudden. I may extend it later on and wrap it up :vBut also if anyone wants to continue/branch off of this feel free! Just tag me
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	The Box

The room smells like rot. Not the concerning, overwhelming rot, where you think something has died, but similar to the rot of an old tree. A musty scent that you don't notice till you get fresh air and return.  
Natsume scrunches his nose and checked over his room, he hadn't left anything out. Maybe Nyanko did? He was checking under his desk when it hit him.  
The closet.  
How had he forgotten?  
Pushing open the door, the scent grew and confirmed his suspicions. He pulled out the back-most box and dug out a smaller shoe box. The white cardboard sagged under his fingertips; the smell ever stronger.  
It was a simple box. From the only pair of shoes he had ever been given new, size 4. They hadn't fit a previous foster family's son, but he treasured them anyway.  
Small doodles litter the sides and lid. The word "secret!!" is written on the top in a child's handwriting. It's accompanied by several stickers of forgotten cartoon characters, holding tears together. Natsume barely holds back a grimace, boxes labeled "secret" rarely stayed that way; especially around other kids.  
Taking a deep breath, he opens it.  
Inside is an array of bright colors and plastic. Snack wrappers, plastic bags of dried fruit and seeds, and a can of leek soup. He'd been gifted the latter by another foster family’s kid. Thinking back, Natsume supposes the kid just didn't like leeks.  
The offender is a package of dorayaki, that he can only recognize by the label.  
He thinks Touko had given it to him when he first moved in.  
Now though, the clear plastic houses a blue-green mass that had expanded so much the corner had popped open.  
Natsume carefully lifts the package by the corners, carrying it carefully to the bin. He reaches the bin. He stops.  
Panic fills his lungs, a weight against his chest so suddenly it brings tears to his eyes.  
It's rotten. He can't keep it. Can't eat it.  
But he can't.  
He can't.  
Natsume sets the pastry on his desk and sits, staring it down as if it could speak. It remains silent.  
It's covered in mold. He can buy another. Throw it away. Throw it away.  
Suddenly, he's angry. Angrier than he's been in years. Why? He's not even thought of the box in months- why is this so hard? What is wrong with him?  
He gets full meals every day, more than he needs, truly. Touko has a surplus of foods downstairs he's welcome to whenever he wants. And they're not even covered in mold. She would offer to cook for him if he even looked hungry. His friends offer him food all the time. They even give Nyanko parts of their meals, and he's just a cat to them.  
He's not going to starve.  
Yet the package doesn't move. And neither does Natsume.  
"Natsume? Are you here?" A voice breaks through his thoughts and his concentration is broken. Glancing toward his room shows it shrouded in long shadows. The sun is setting outside his window in bright oranges and pinks.  
It's so different from the mold.  
"Natsume?" Touko asks, closer this time. He tries to stand but the pins and needles prick his calves and send him back down. Natsume hits the floor with a loud bang.  
The footsteps grow louder and faster, and the door flies open.  
Natsume opens his mouth to say he's fine but finds it dry and slips into hard coughs instead. His head is suddenly pounding. How long was he sitting there?  
Touko rushes in and squats beside him, her hands fluttering over his shoulders in worry. "Natsume? Do you have a fever?"  
Natsume tries again but nothing comes out, just a small puff of air. Why is she here? She needs to get out. Get out. Get out!  
Touko suddenly notices the room's clutter, glancing around the room before settling on the desk. Her face wrinkles in distaste as the smell wafts up.  
"What is this?" She reaches for the package.  
Something snaps and suddenly Natsume can move again. "Stop!"  
Everything freezes and, after a few heavy breaths, the panic steps back.  
Touko is on the floor, haven fallen from her previous position. She's holding her other hand as a pink mark begins to appear. Her eyes shine and her mouth twitches.  
Natsume stares.  
What did he do.  
What has he done.  
"T-Touko?" Natsume stammers.  
Touko's mouth opens and shuts several times before she composes herself and sits up. The room is deathly silent.  
Natsume barely suppresses a flinch. Barely.  
"I'm sorry, Natsume," her voice is choked, "I shouldn't have run in here like that." She's still cradling her other hand.  
The red mark grows clearer.  
A handprint.  
He had hit her. He hit Touko. He slapped her hand away.  
The blood leaves Natsume's face and the room spins. He hit Touko.  
"I-I'm so sorry!" Fingers tug at his hair and Natsume stares at the floor, letting it happen. The fingers dig deeper, hurting.  
His vision blurs.  
"I'm so so sorry- please don't send me back!" The idea of leaving this place overwhelms any other fear. He doesn't want to leave.  
He likes it here.  
He actually likes it here. He has friends, some of which know about him, and they're still friends. School friends and youkai. Would Nyanko come with? Could he? Would they let him? The Fujiwaras like Nyanko- they'd take care of him, right? The Fujiwaras. They're the best family he's ever had. They're so nice. They're all nice but they're the nicest. And he's hit her.  
The blurry room swirls and the tugging at his hair becomes painful.  
He's ruined everything.  
"Please. I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry, sorry-" His voice catches.  
She had wanted the food, right? She'd let him stay if he gave it to her right? He's so sorry. He doesn't have to eat. As long as they let him stay. That's okay.  
Okay.  
He scrambles to the closet, murmuring intelligibly, and tears through the first box. It's not here! Where? Where is it?  
Paper tears and something sharp catches on his skin.  
"-Sume," A sound echoes in the back of his mind. She's here. They're waiting.  
Hurry. It. Up.  
"I'll get it. I'll get it. You can have it- Let me stay? Sorry, please?" He digs in the second box. Natsume can't see but he feels it. The familiar dinged corners and textured tears, along with the new soft spot.  
Got it.  
He turns too fast and trips, his legs still asleep, but crawls over to the figure. They stand imposing. Still.  
A lady right? It was a lady.  
He doesn't want to leave. She's nice.  
The lady is nice.  
"Ma'am? Ma'am? Here's my- Here's the food. You can have it. 'm sorry. Please?" Natsume offers the box up to the blurry figure. It doesn't move. He lets out a wail before quickly muffling it with his free hand.  
They don't like it when he's loud. Stupid.  
Something moves above and he flinches down. Stupid.  
Barely above a whisper, Natsume tries again, hand still muffling his voice,"S-sorry! Sorry. Ma'am! I'll be quiet. Sorry, ma'am. Here? Please? Sorry-" He rambles for a minute, the silence to loud. What was she doing?  
She's not hitting him? Can he stay?  
The box slips from his fingers and Natsume has to bite down to stop the noise that tears it's way out of his throat. She has it. Can he stay? She has it.  
She has his food.  
He's going to starve.  
The panic becomes overflowing, a buzz drowning out any noise, and he gasps for air. He can't breathe! He can't.  
\---  
When Natsume wakes up he's confused. He doesn't usually sleep on the couch downstairs. It's too open.  
Actually, he doesn't think he's ever fallen asleep downstairs.  
Sitting up, the room tilts and his head pounds. Was he sick?  
Natsume glances around the room. His legs are covered in a heavy quilt and a pack of tissues sits on the coffee table, accompanied by a small pile of used tissues. A warm light slips through the curtains.  
Behind him, Touko sits in the chair with her own quilt, snoring softly. Her fingers are spread across Nyanko's back, who also seems asleep.  
If he wasn't so confused, he'd find it funny.  
A shadow spreads from the kitchen.  
He glances up and meets eyes with Shigeru. He's carrying two mugs of tea and an odd expression on his face. The air smells like lavender.  
Natsume tilts his head, not sure what to ask or how to ask it.  
Shigeru lets out a soft sigh, closing his eyes for a moment, before walking over and passing Natsume a mug. Natsume pulls up his legs and his foster father sits on the other end of the couch, still oddly silent.  
Natsume wants to attest it to Touko sleeping nearby but it feels different.  
He drinks in the quiet for a moment, Shigeru watching his tea swirl.  
Natsume has half a mind to wonder if he's in trouble when Shigeru finally breaks the silence.  
"Do you remember what happened last night?"  
Natsume stares blankly. Last night? He was... He was cleaning. Nyanko was out drinking. There was a smell.  
The smell.  
The memories flood back in a moment. The crashing wave takes his breath away. Some pastry had spoilt. He hit Touko. He-  
He did something.  
The rest is blurry. There was a woman in his room? Touko. It was Touko.  
Natsume stares into his tea. So, he is in trouble. "I'm sorry," Tears threaten to well up, his eyes already burning, "I don't know what happened. I'm sorry."  
"You don't remember?"  
"I remember," Natsume whispers, "some of it." He rubs his thumb over the side of his tea. The top of the mug is cool and the bottom warm, the ceramic is smooth. A drop falls into the tea, rippling the surface. "I hit Touko."  
Shigeru lets out a hmm and they sit in the quiet again. Another ripple.  
"Do you know why?"  
Natsume thinks back to the pastry; the stupid lump of mold and rot. He should have thrown it away. It's not worth anything, it's not edible, he's being stupid. He's so stupid.  
He wonders if they threw it away after he-  
"You're not stupid, Natsume." Shigeru says, taking a sip from his tea.  
Natsume freezes, did he speak aloud?  
"We didn't move anything in your room, just you. You passed out."  
Natsume glances over at Touko, still asleep. "I'm sorry."  
A bang tears Natsume back to Shigeru, his heart pounding. Shigeru is leaving over the table, tea mug cupped between his hands from where he slammed it against the wood.  
Natsume freezes.  
Shigeru releases the mug, slowly rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I don't know how to do this."  
Natsume's heart drops. So, they are getting rid of him. "It's okay," he whispers, "I understand."  
"That's the problem," Shigeru says, still not looking up from the palms of his hands, "You don't understand."  
Natsume tries to hold back a hiccup but is too slow. Shigeru looks up.  
"Please," Natsume's voice shakes, "please, don't throw me away?"  
Shigeru opens his mouth, brows furrowing, and Natsume returns his gaze to his lap, squeezing his mug till his knuckles turn white.  
"We're not throwing you away-"  
Of course not. No one ever calls it that. They'll just move him to a "better place" that's "better suited" for him. How many places are there left, really? He's burnt through so many places. Honestly, the Fujiwaras are barely related to him at all, they just got him because no one else cares.  
So Natsume interrupts, another broken rule, "I know. I know I'm difficult, there's something wrong with me. I'm stupid. But I won't do it again? I'm so sorry. I'll stay upstairs and be quiet and," he chokes again, "you don't have to see me, at all, I promise."  
Shigeru lets out another sigh, leaning back against the couch. "Natsume." Natsume curls in on himself. "Why do you have a box of old food?"  
Instinctually defensive, "It's not that old."  
"Takashi-"  
"Just," he takes a breath, "Just in case?"  
Shigeru continues to push, "Just in case what?"  
"Just in case I didn't have food. Or got locked in. Or-" Natsume's eyes widen, realizing his mistake, "Not for you though! Not for you, you and T- Mrs. Fujiwara wouldn't do that. You're good! Just for before. I forgot about it, honest."  
Shigeru doesn't respond.  
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean that! You can have it? You have it, right?" Natsume rambles.  
"Takashi?"  
"To- Fujiwara! I'm so sorry, are you okay? I didn't mean to, I-"  
Touko slips forward, Nyanko jumping off her lap, and wraps her arms around Natsume. "I'm so glad you're okay."  
"What?"  
Touko slips back, muttering apologies, "Sorry, if you didn't want me to, I-"  
Natsume is confused, thoughts conflicting, but leans forward, arms out, "Please?"  
They stay intertwined for a moment, the hug awkward and lopsided, before hearing Shigeru huff. "Sorry for waking you, Touko, but could you please tell Natsume we're not throwing him out."  
"What?"  
Touko leans back once more, gently holding Natsume's wrists, "As long as you still want to, you're staying here, Takashi."


End file.
